Black Dog
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: After sighting a Grim on Hogwarts grounds, Hermione isn't sure if she's made a new friend or if she's marked for death. With Harry and Ron caught up in their own lives, it is up to her to get to the truth. This is an AU where the trio does not meet Sirius in third year, and instead catches up with them in sixth year. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey Everyone! Like so many people in this fandom, I LOVE Halloween and October in general. This is a little short multi-chapter that looks at what would have happened if the trio did NOT meet Sirius Black in year three. We join them in year six, instead. I will post a new chapter every Tuesday through the end of October, and I hope you enjoy this creepy, spooky, creature fic that I've come up with. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

HUGE shout out to Heeley and Calebski who both beta-read this for me. Honestly, they are both such angels, and I am eternally grateful for their assistance! Without it, this would probably be a jumbled, confusing, grammatically incorrect fic :) Thank you, lovelies!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

* * *

Hermione wrapped her jacket around her body a little bit tighter, hoping to ward off some of the cold. Even though it was only mid-September, it was surprisingly crisp, something that she mentioned to her two walking companions, wanting to break the silence that had settled between them.

"It's bloody cold," Ron agreed, rubbing his bare hands together, trying to get some warmth going, even though Hermione thought it was somewhat futile.

"Well, if you'd bothered to properly prepare for going outside, like I told you, maybe you'd be a little bit warmer," Hermione snapped back at him, sick of how he always managed to complain about something.

"You aren't my mum, Hermione, so stop acting like it," Ron responded, his ears going a bit red at being scolded.

She scoffed, wondering just what it was about him that could possibly attract her. She wasn't entirely sure if she really did like Ron or not, but she'd been grappling with the feelings for at least a year at this point. He was cute in a way, having started to fill out his previously gangly frame, and her heart did tend to stutter whenever she looked into his baby blue eyes.

Out of nowhere, she'd become fascinated with his hands of all things, and watching the way that his fingers held his quill when he actually bothered to take notes in class could be quite distracting. He even managed to be really sweet to her every now and again.

Hermione knew it was a real possibility that he liked her too. It was a little bit adorable how jealous he got whenever she was talking with Cormac McLaggen. She'd caught him staring at her more than once when she'd visited the Burrow that summer. Ginny was absolutely insistent that they would be dating before the year was over, and sometimes it felt like it was inevitable that they would become a couple sooner or later.

But then, he'd do something like open his big, stupid mouth and completely destroy the illusion for her. She would be left wondering just what it was about him that had been so attractive in the first place.

"Can you two just leave it?" Harry begged from his spot on the other side of Ron. "Yes, it's a little bit colder than I expected, but can't we just enjoy some fresh air before we're too busy with classes to get outside much?" Hermione knew that Harry hated playing the peace keeper between the two of them, so she nodded, wanting to enjoy the afternoon.

She'd expected that she would have felt closer with the two boys after their fight at the Ministry of Magic earlier that year, but instead, Hermione had been stuck recovering from the curse that Antonin Dolohov had gifted her with. Harry had been left to his own devices, blaming himself for the whole fight, seeing as it was his vision of Mr. Weasley being tortured that had brought them all to the Department in the first place. Hermione found his ways of coping very unhealthy, but she was unable to visit or write him very much, and it would have been too difficult for Ron to get him to open up about his feelings. The few times that she was able to see him, he'd been very closed off, and completely unreceptive to her help, insistent that he was fine.

She'd hoped Harry inviting them outside was a step in the right direction. That he was finally starting to forgive himself for putting them in danger. It wasn't as though she and Ron had been blind to the danger going in, or that he could have left them behind. Even if he had wanted to.

A gust of wind snapped Hermione's mind back to the present. She suddenly noticed it had grown dark out, and she wondered how long they'd been wandering aimlessly, listening to Harry drone on about how he was positive Malfoy was a Death Eater. Looking back towards the school, she realized that they'd gone much further around the Black Lake than typical as well. The flickering candlelight in the windows seemed warm and inviting. "It's getting rather late," She said regretfully. "I am sure that it's nearly dinner time. We should get headed back to the castle."

Ron's stomach grumbled loudly in agreement. Turning around to begin their trek back, Hermione felt a chill race up her spine when she realized that a slightly dense fog had formed on the lake. It was spilling over towards the Forbidden Forest. In the distance, a wolf howl. "Now that was eerie." Harry said, rubbing his hands on his arms, at the atmosphere that had been created. "Glad we decided to head back."

Hermione's eyes adjusted when she noticed the large form of...something...on the edge of the forest. At first she thought it might be Fang, Hagrid's lovable dog, but upon a second glance, she realized that the dog was much larger than Fang. "Do you see that dog?" She asked, pointing to wear it stood, clinging to the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. "It looks gigantic. I'm not sure I've ever seen a wild creature that large this close to Hogwarts."

"Yeah. I'm sure it's just a dog though. Maybe it wandered in from Hogsmeade, or Hagrid has a new pet he didn't tell us about. It's certainly not a wolf," Harry said off-hand, as soon as he got a better look at the animal. "Except normal dogs don't have red eyes…"

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried from next to them. "It's a bloody Grim! That's the Grim!" He was well panicked, pointing at the beast that seemed to be watching them with a bit too much consideration.

"Oh Ron, it's just a dog," Hermione admonished him, though she could feel her heart quicken a bit with fear at just how large the dog seemed to be. She wondered if she wasn't trying too hard to convince herself the same. It was just a dog wasn't it?

"What even is a Grim?" Harry asked.

"It's just an old myth, Harry," Hermione tried to explain, though she didn't know nearly as much about the topic as she would like. She didn't really see much point in reading about magical creatures that didn't even exist. "But don't worry - that's not a Grim, it's just a dog," she said insistently, glaring at Ron. It was preposterous, and she sometimes hated how superstitious the wizarding world could be.

Just as Ron was about to argue with her, the dog took a deliberate step forward. All three of them stilled in fear. That was, until the low growl echoed around the clearing, the sound seeming deafening, caging them in from all sides. Taking a steadying breath, Hermione tried to convince herself that it wasn't actually so loud. She couldn't focus on anything other than her heart beating wildly in her chest, tendrils of fear finally grabbing hold of her firmly and not letting her go.

"Run!" Ron yelled, his face transformed by his own terror, his blue eyes wild. Hermione and Harry didn't need to be told again; they took off sprinting for the castle, in a rush to get to safety. They didn't stop until they were in their seats in the Great Hall, trying to catch their breaths.

Seamus looked them up and down, his mood somewhere between amusement and concern. Seeing that Ron immediately went to filling his plate, he determined that whatever it was, it must not be too horrible if it hadn't disturbed Ron's famous appetite. "Oi, what's gotten into the lot of you?" he finally asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"We were chased by a Grim," Ron said seriously, before taking a big bite out of his dinner roll.

Neville's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's just silly!" he said, thinking that the three of them must be mistaken. It sounded crazy. "You know that's just a myth, Ron - dogs or wolves seem larger because you let yourself get scared. The memory is very susceptible to fear." Hermione leaned forward and couldn't stop herself from giving Ron a triumphant look.

But Ron was not deterred in the slightest. "I'm telling you - it was staring right at us with it's huge, red, glowing eyes!" Ron insisted to Seamus, Dean and Neville, who were all pressed closer around the Gryffindor table, their own plates left temporarily abandoned while they listened to Ron's story. "And it had a huge mouth, looked as if it could just swallow us up whole. It's a bad omen, that's for sure."

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione cried, exasperated next to him. Of course, she'd been frightened when they were out on the grounds, but now that she was back in the warmth and safety of the castle, it just seemed silly. She did feel a bit childish having run away from the dog that they'd seen, too caught up in the terror with Harry and Ron to be left behind, but she certainly didn't believe that it was a bad omen. Ever since her third year, she'd had an extraordinarily poor opinion of Divination and the associated omens that they tended to preach. After all, Professor Trelawney regularly prophesied the deaths of her own students and not a single one had come true since Hermione had been at school.

Ron turned to glare at her, clearly none too pleased with her continued skepticism. "Say what you want Hermione, but that was a Grim and it's out wandering the Hogwarts grounds. You were the one who saw it first, so maybe it was looking for you," he told her seriously. "I don't fancy being marked for death, and if you don't too, you might not want to go out near the Forbidden Forest."

Despite herself and the warmth of the Great Hall, she felt a shiver race up her spine.

* * *

Hermione was happy to be curled up in a little reading nook in the library, while the boys talked Quidditch tactics in the common room. Quidditch discussion in general had reached an all time high since Ron had made the team as keeper (thanks in part to her...something she was still embarrassed that she'd done). Additionally, she was under the impression that Ron was still a bit put out with her for disagreeing with him about the grim that they'd seen. He hadn't made the usual effort that he did to include her in discussions.

It was fine for her, as she'd wanted nothing more than to catch up on her History of Magic reading. Professor Binns had assigned a rather large reading list, and it was very dry material, so some time to focus on the assignment was just what she needed. A warming charm protected her from the cold, damp weather on the other side of the pane of glass, and she was really getting a lot done.

That was, of course, until Crookshanks hopped up on the cushion with her, standing in front of her crossed legs, and letting out an extremely loud yowl. Hermione blushed at just how noisy her familiar was when he needed to be, she reached around her book to give him a scratch behind his ears, trying to continue her work. To her dismay, Crooks yowled again, and then pressed a paw to the top of her book, forcing her to put it down.

Hermione stared at her half-kneazle, wondering just what it was that had gotten into him. "Crookshanks!" she scolded the orange, bandy-legged cat. "What do you want? Surely you've had enough treats for the day." She'd found that Crookshanks had chewed through the bottom of his treat bag, leaving it - unfortunately for him - empty.

Crookshanks only bayed again, hopping off the cushion, and then stopping to stare back at her. Hermione's eyebrows knit together in confusion. It almost seemed as if Crookshanks wanted her to follow him. Knowing that he was a rather intelligent animal, Hermione reluctantly packed her bags, and stood up from the bench. As if he were quite pleased with her, Crookshanks rubbed himself against her legs - leaving her grey knee socks covered in orange fur, thank you very much - before trotting off in the direction of the exit.

She stared after him, feeling a bit dumbfounded, only to have Crookshanks turn and look back to find his mistress wasn't following. He sat down again, and started caterwauling so loudly that she was positive that Madame Pince would kick her out. "Alright, Crooks!" she whispered furiously, making the short walk between herself and her familiar. When she finally caught up with him, he started trotting off again, and Hermione reluctantly followed, her pace quick in an effort to keep up with the little rascal.

The brunette followed him directly out of the library, praying that no one she knew had seen her being lead about by her cat, as she was positive she would never be able to live down the humiliation. She followed Crookshanks down the flights of stairs, past the Great Hall, until they were standing in front of the giant wooden doors that marked the entrance of the school. Crookshanks began pawing at the door, taking great pleasure in sinking his claws into the old wood. Clearly, he wanted to go outside.

"I don't have my jacket, Crooks. Surely this can wait until I pop up to Gryffindor Tower to get it?" she questioned, only to have Crookshanks yowl in displeasure once more. Hermione blushed, hoping that no one saw her having an honest conversation with her familiar. In the back of her mind, she wondered if perhaps she had gone a bit mental, taking orders from a bossy cat. "Alright, have it your way," she conceded, pushing the door open, and following Crookshanks out into the icy winds.

Immediately, the damp sunk into her skin, slinking past her sweater as easily as if it she were wearing nothing at all. A feeling of unease gripped her, but Crookshanks was just so insistent, that she found herself following him off the path and onto the Hogwarts grounds, hugging the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Fog seeped out at the edges, and Hermione tried to push the memory of the giant dog that they had seen from her thoughts. It wasn't as if Crookshanks would lead her to any danger, seeing as he was her familiar after all.

When they'd finally traveled far enough along the Forest's edge that they could no longer see the castle, Hermione paused. "Crookshanks, we are getting close to the school wards," she said nervously, feeling the magic that protected Hogwarts, and all the students within it, weaken. She wasn't sure if she should follow. But, Crookshanks would not to be deterred by crossing magical barriers meant to keep her safe. Sighing, Hermione followed the half-kneazle's lead, wondering just what he could possibly have to show her that would be in the caves.

A low, piercing growl caught her attention as soon as they'd passed through the entrance, sending a bolt of terror up her spine once again, only to settle into the pit of her belly. Crookshanks wasn't worried in the slightest, and trotted further inside, out of sight.

Nervous, Hermione followed hesitantly. "Lumos," she whispered, only to wander further into the cave, jumping at every echo or noise. When she finally rejoined Crookshanks, she gasped in horror.

Crookshanks was seated, staring down at the giant, black dog that she had seen with the boys previously. Only, it wasn't so big and menacing when it's paw and side were bloody. Gasping, Hermione dropped to her knees next to the creature, ignoring his snaps and growls, knowing that it was only doing it because he was hurt. All of her fear had vanished. "Oh, you poor thing," she lamented. "It looks like you got hit with a cutting hex," she said, gently reaching out to touch the beast's fur, hoping to comfort it.

The dog snarled at her, startling her and making her fall back onto her arse, her heart pounding against her chest. She was a bit annoyed, because she just wanted to help the poor thing, but then she remembered that he was probably scared and it was likely that another witch or wizard was who hurt him in the first place. She couldn't blame the dog for not being very trusting. Righting herself, Hermione leaned forward, cautiously, ignoring the low growls until he let her touch him.

Casting a bluebell flame, Hermione was determined that she would heal the dog, cursing under her breath the whole time that she watched the animal's flesh knit back together. "I hate that someone did this to you. You aren't a grim at all, but wizards are far too superstitious for their own good." Once his skin was fixed, Hermione used an aguamenti charm to wash away some of the blood that had matted into the dog's fur.

By the time that she was finished, she found that he was no longer growling, and instead watching her work with a curious look. If dogs could have a curious look, that is. Reaching up to scratch him behind the ears, Hermione smiled looking at his face. "You don't have glowing red eyes at all, do you boy?" she questioned, even though he couldn't answer. "Ron doesn't know what he's talking about." It was true that the dog didn't have red eyes - instead they were a brilliant, mercurial grey that seemed almost out of place on an animal. His fur was lush and coal black. He was a rather good looking dog, only, it seemed a bit funny to say.

The dog lolled his tongue out at her, enjoying the pets and scratches that she was giving him. Once she was assured that the dog was content and no longer injured, she stood up, giving a proud look at Crookshanks. "And you, Crooksie, you are such a good cat to bring me here. I think that I am going to head back to the castle. Are you going to stay here with your new friend?"

Crookshanks stood, tail proudly in the air, purring in approval at having been praised by his excited owner. He walked in a circle, spinning around three times, before curling up in a ball between the black dog's front paws. Laughing at the sight, Hermione cast a warming charm on the pair, hoping to stave off the chill of the afternoon a little bit, before turning to leave and head back to the castle. Initially, she'd felt a bit like Crookshanks had lead her on a wild goose chase, but she was glad that he'd brought her to the poor injured dog. Who knew if the dog would have been able to ever heal properly without her assistance?

Happily, she walked back towards the castle, completely unaware of what happened in the cave once she'd left. Once he was certain she was gone, the dog began transforming, limbs stretching and mutating, until the space that was once occupied by the black dog was instead home to a rather frazzled looking man, blanket clutched around his form.

Meowing, Crookshanks rubbed himself against the man's bare legs, demanding attention. The man looked down at the odd little half-kneazle, giving it a lopsided grin. "You were right, Crooks. Your witch is alright."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you guys are so intrigued by this story, and I hope that it lives up to the suspense that's building! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions!

Huge shout out to Heeley and Calebski who are beta reading this story for me. Seriously, they are angels who walk the Earth and have helped transform this from one big grammatical issue to something pleasant to read. I am so grateful for their help! So thank you!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter two and be on the lookout for chapter three next Tuesday!

* * *

Once she knew about the black dog that was inhabiting the caves on the edge of the Hogwarts wards, Hermione was unable to push the knowledge from her mind. Especially having seen that he was in some kind of altercation with a wizard or witch that had lead to him being injured, she found her mind drifting to his scruffy face again and again. Was he okay? Was he cold or hungry? Did he have anyone besides Crookshanks for company?

Somehow she doubted it, seeing as the whole school seemed to be aware that there was a Grim roaming the grounds, and some of her classmates had even claimed to spot the beast. Professor Lupin had been cajoled into telling them more about the ghostly beast, a harbinger of death, during Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Hermione hadn't been able to stop herself from doing her own bit of research. It seemed that all over the British Isles and even beyond, the Grim had its own name and myths surrounding it. The Beast of Flanders, Cŵn Annwn, Tchico, Moddey Dhoo, Cù-Sith, Padfoot. She was even surprised to see that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had bought into the hype with the Hound of the Baskervilles.

It amused her so much to think of the ghostly spectre, a massive dog that was there to take her spirit away. When she was with the black dog, she seriously could not imagine her gentle dog friend marking her for death. Because she was so positive that it was not a Grim that she was dealing with, she felt compelled to continue to visit him, bringing bits of food whenever she could.

After dinner, Hermione had told Harry and Ron that she was going to head to the library, in order to shake them off. There was no way she would be telling either one of them about her continued journeys. Every time the Grim was seen, Ron became more and more smug. She was positive he'd be furious if she told him she was actually helping the dog. With her bag full of leftover meat from dinner and her copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles, she set off towards the caves.

It was dark outside, but Hermione's footing was sure seeing as she'd made this same journey nearly a dozen times since Crookshanks had brought her there. The trip across the grounds was by far her least favorite part. As soon as you got away from the castle, the cheery light diminished until you could barely see your breath in front of you. It was much colder than usual for autumn, and the crunching sound of her feet on frozen leaves and grass seemed to echo, announcing her procession to whoever cared to notice.

The worst part of her was when she had to approach the Black Lake. A perpetual fog seemed to have settled on its shores, wrapping her in an icy embrace. The stagnant mist penetrated clothing and charms alike, a mockery of a lover's caress on her skin, sending a chill up her spine. It was enough to have her doubling her pace, nearly to a jog, to cross the distance and get to her new friend faster.

The black dog no longer growled at her when she entered the caves, perhaps recognizing her scent or the cadence of her steps, but he did always regard her with a human-like expression that seemed to question her continued companionship. "Really?" His gaze seemed to say. "You again?" He would pad over to the little fire pit that she'd constructed, waiting for her to light the twigs and branches and absorb some of the warmth from the flickering flames.

She would drop to her knees and give him a scratch behind the ears, before digging whatever food she'd brought with her out of her bag. Tonight, it was a thick, juicy piece of brisket, with the fatty edge still on the side. He was practically salivating at the sight, and tore into it as soon as it left her hand. Hermione couldn't stifle a giggle, and busied herself with pulling the book out of her bag. "You've really got the whole school talking, boy," she told him with a smile. "Even Professor Lupin had to stop a lecture today to talk about the Grim."

The black dog looked up at her, as though he were interested. She knew that it was a bit preposterous to think that he was participating in the discussion with her, but after putting up with her "too intelligent by half" cat for several years, it had become habit by now. Even if she could talk about this with Harry or Ron, she knew that they wouldn't find it interesting enough to listen to her. "Although, I will say that there are lots of different names for the Grim, all over Britain and beyond. You don't really seem like a Grim."

She was sure that if he had eyebrows, he would have raised them. Hermione giggled. Of course, he didn't seem like a Grim, mainly because there was no such thing. In any case, the Grim was meant to be a ghostly spirit, and she had very reliable evidence - the fact that he loved ear scratches and belly rubs - that he was very solid, and very real. "I just mean to say that I think some of the other names might better suit you. I was thinking that I would call you...Padfoot," she told him confidently. Hermione wasn't entirely sure why, but the name Padfoot just seemed to fit him.

The dog stilled at that, before a little whine left his throat. She was captivated by the haunted look in his gray eyes, until he broke the contact, standing up and moving to press his face into her hand. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Hermione kissed the top of his furry head. Apparently he liked the name, too.

* * *

Harry had grown increasingly worried about Hermione's frequent solo trips to the library. For some reason, he was absolutely convinced that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, and that she was in danger from the blond boy. Honestly, having bumped into Malfoy in the hallway the other day, Hermione was almost more worried about her bigoted bully than she was about him doing anything to her. He looked horrible and he hadn't even spared her the energy to throw an insult her way.

Despite her insistence that she could look out for herself, Harry insisted on Hermione being accompanied by someone at the library, just in case. She had grown incredibly irritated, in that it meant that her visits to Padfoot - some time alone that she increasingly enjoyed - had been dramatically reduced. Mostly, the only time that she could get away from her two watchful wardens was during Quidditch practice or games.

For instance, that day, Ron and Harry were going to watch the Ravenclaw - Slytherin match for reconnaissance. Hermione jumped at the chance to head over to visit Padfoot, wanting to make good on her promise to give the dog a bath. She knew that he could take care of himself, seeing as he'd been living on his own for Godric knows how long, but Hermione was determined to look after him, and nothing beat a bubble bath.

"Good afternoon, Padfoot!" she called out cheerfully, observing the large black dog lounging in a patch of sunlight. Finding a suitable rock, she transfigured it into a bathtub that would be big enough to fit him in. A quick charm had that tub filled with water and then heated. "Alright, into the water you go," she instructed, looking at the dog pointedly.

To her amusement, Padfoot seemed as if the last thing he would want to do would be to get into the water. Placing her hands on her hips in that bossy way of her's, Hermione scolded him. "Padfoot...I don't have much time. I have to get back to the castle before the Quidditch match is over."

Snorting, the dog stood up, before clambering into the tub, sending water sloshing over the sides and even splashing Hermione a little bit. Letting out a noise of annoyance, Hermione used her wand to dry her shirt, not wanting to be left dripping wet in the cool autumn air. Conjuring a bit of soap, Hermione got to work scrubbing the dog from the tip of his nose down to his tail, making sure to spend extra time scratching him where he seemed to like it most. By the end, he was practically purring under the feel of her fingernails.

Using her wand, she let the water work all the remaining soap out of his fur, before banishing away the dirty bathwater. "Wow, Padfoot. It looks like you've never had a bath before," she told him, seeing the disgusting residue that was left behind. Then she laughed to herself. "Of course, you probably haven't had a bath before."

Once he was out of the water, it seemed that Padfoot simply could not wait to shake himself dry, sending drops of water all over the room, the vast majority of them hitting Hermione once again. She cursed at finding her shirt quite wet and clingy once again, only to use a charm to dry both herself and the dog.

It was nearly second nature to light a fire for the dog, even though it wasn't nighttime. She was positive that the affectionate animal would be happy for the warmth, no matter the time of day. The brunette made a mental note to bring some blankets with her the next time she came to visit the caves, and then settled next to the fire, patting the ground beside her to get Padfoot to sit by her side.

The dog walked towards her, before laying down, his head resting on his paws, giving her a guilty look. Hermione smirked at him. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I won't let anyone - not even Crookshanks - know that you purred like a little kitten while getting your bath," she could only imagine what her familiar would think of that.

Digging into her bag, she pulled out a book on Transfiguration. Before she could even get comfortable, she could hear the noise of the crowd swelling to levels that could only indicate that the snitch had been caught. The game was over. "I'm sorry, Padfoot. I have to get going," she whispered to her companion, giving him one last scratch behind the ears before she left the cave, leaving him behind.

Padfoot sat on his haunches, waiting for her footsteps to fade away into the distance before he transformed back into a human. For once, Sirius Black was glad that Crookshanks wasn't there to witness his transformation. Groaning low in his throat, Sirius laid on his back, naked body barely covered by his shabby looking robe. That had been absolute torture.

He didn't think he could imagine another time when he'd cursed his enhanced senses, but being so close to Hermione was killing him. Her scent lingered long after she'd left, and he couldn't shake the memory of the way her shirt had clung to her curves when he'd splashed her. It was barely better than when she came in her school uniform, wearing those knee socks…

The phantom feeling of her fingers massaging the soap into his fur remained and was causing all sorts of physical reactions even though he'd been a dog at the time. His body still had very real connections between dog and human and it had felt criminally good.

Taking a deep breath and forcing himself not to give in to his baser reactions, Sirius ran a hand across his face. He was determined that the growing attraction for her was solely due to the fact that he'd seldom had any human interactions since he'd been put in Azkaban, of the womanly variety or otherwise. He was positive that, in time, he would learn to control himself around the girl, and not find himself panting after her, long after she'd gone.

* * *

It had felt as if her heart had stopped mid-beat when she watched, helplessly, as Lavender Brown planted her lips against Ron Weasley's, and then….he had leaned into the kiss, taking it deeper. The party in Gryffindor tower, post Quidditch win, had cheered loudly at the sight, but everything seemed to fade away for Hermione, standing shocked in the middle of it all. The only things she was aware of was that she couldn't tear her eyes away from the object of her affection kissing another girl and the fact that a huge lump in her throat was working its way upward, causing tears to prickle behind her eyes.

A sob tore out of her mouth and she knew that she had to get out of there before she embarrassed herself in front of all of her housemates, blubbering like a baby because a boy didn't like her the same way she liked him. Obviously.

Harry didn't notice as she slipped out of the portrait hole and away from the revelers. Hermione wasn't sure if she should be upset that her friend was oblivious to her in that moment, or if she should be pleased that no one would be there to witness her break down, wallowing in the pain of a teenage crush.

Her feet carried her down the now familiar path without conscious thought. It didn't matter that she only had a flimsy scarf to keep her warm, too numb to register to temperature, she stumbled down the stairs with burning eyes, and out the front door. Really, when she thought about it, there was nowhere for her to go except to visit Padfoot. He'd always been there for her when Quidditch ruined her life.

The trip across the grounds to the caves was worse than it had ever been. She didn't bother with her wand, and it was pitch black out. Her footing wasn't nearly as sure as usual, her mind too caught up in feeling sorry for herself. Using her sleeves to wipe away her tears, she frightened herself more than once, getting grabbed by swaying branches from the trees on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

It seemed to take her an hour to get there, but she was sure that it hadn't taken her longer than usual. As soon as she tumbled into the cave, Padfoot was on edge, standing and trotting over to her, sniffing her hands to try and deduce what it was that was wrong with her. She wondered if he could smell the saltiness in her tears. Hermione couldn't stop herself from letting out a bitter laugh, wondering just how friendless she really was that she would run to a dog for comfort.

Wrapping her arms around Padfoot's neck, Hermione collapsed to her knees, her laughter quickly reverting back into sobs. She dug her fingers into his fur and held him close, trying to calm herself down, feeling a bit ridiculous. The massive dog was quite clearly distressed from her tears, and was desperately licking at her face, his whines echoing throughout the cave.

When she finally thought that she had a hold of herself, Hermione pulled back and looked into the dog's silver eyes. "Oh Padfoot, you are going to think me so silly," she whispered, her thumbs desperately wiping the tears away from her cheeks. "A boy that I like kissed another girl, in front of everyone in Gryffindor tower."

Padfoot stared at her, before sitting down with purpose, as if to encourage her to go on. Chuckling at his antics, Hermione sent a spell at their little firepit, waiting for the flames to jump to light. She sat cross-legged in front of it, waiting for Padfoot to come join her, before continuing. "Well, I guess you could say he's a bit more than a boy that I like. He's one of my best friends, too."

The silence stretched between them for a moment, while Hermione went a bit cross-eyed watching the fire hiss and pop. "I suppose now I know that he doesn't think of me in that way," she told Padfoot, feeling rather sorry for herself. "The girl that he kissed, Lavender, well, she's a lot prettier than me. She's got blonde hair and a body I am sure most girls are jealous of." Unconsciously, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

Padfoot laid down, pressing his head into her lap, and looking up at her as if she was crazy. As if to say, I think you are amazing. Hermione shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I can't very well trust your opinion. You're just a dog." She was sure Padfoot did think she was amazing, seeing as she brought him food and companionship.

Sighing, she laid down on her side, letting her body curl around the dog. For a while he seemed to stiffen, but then with a great shuddering sigh, Padfoot relaxed, leaning into her. He even let her wrap and arm around him, holding onto him like a big, furry pillow.

"The funny thing is that I don't even know why I like Ron. Or even, if I still do like Ron. He can be terribly rude to me, and he sometimes belittles the things I like to do for fun...I am sure we would have been at each other's throats even if we had dated."

It felt good to get all of that off of her chest, knowing that Padfoot would never betray her trust. It felt good to talk through her feelings for Ron, especially because she still didn't really know what she was thinking. There was something about her canine companion that was so soothing. He made her realize that she didn't need to decide anything right now, and instead, just listened to the fire dying down, her eyes growing heavy with sleep.

She was completely oblivious to the fact that Padfoot was fuming internally. That he was not just a dog, and instead was a very irritated animagus, who wanted to know just who it was that had upset the magnificent creature currently wrapped around his body. That he wanted to tell her that her best friend was an idiot and she shouldn't waste her tears on him. But that was a futile wish, seeing as Hermione thought he was just a dog and she would likely be furious to learn that he was masquerading the whole while. She would be even more upset when she realized who he was - escaped convict Sirius Black. It was impossible that she hadn't read the newspapers and the warnings.

But that didn't change his desire to transform and hold her properly for once.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites, and follows! It means so much that you are all enjoying this story so much - it's something that I've been planning on for two years, haha. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions.

As usual, a huge thank you to Heeley and Calebski for beta reading this for me! Without them, you would be absolutely horrified by my word repetition, and not in a good way, haha!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four next tuesday!

* * *

After spending the night curled around Padfoot's furry body, Hermione came to realize that she trusted a dog more than her two best friends. The boys that she'd been getting out of scrapes for the past six years. She wasn't entirely sure what it was about the friendly animal, but he seemed easier to relate to than any of her classmates. After she'd bared her soul to him, it was almost as if a bond was created between the two of them.

She found herself spending more and more time walking to the edge of the wards to see Padfoot. The knowledge that the magic was too weak there - too stretched - to offer her any kind of real protection from the world outside of Hogwarts no longer worried her as it had on that first night Crookshanks had lead her to the injured beast.

If Harry and Ron noticed that she was becoming more and more absent, they didn't say anything about it. It seemed that after their _extremely_ public display of affection, _Won-Won_ and _Lav-Lav_ were dating. Seeing them coo and slobber over one another was enough to make Hermione want to gag, and it only confirmed in her mind that she and Ron were never destined to be anything but friends. Harry, on the other hand, had become increasingly obsessed with Malfoy, and had taken to watching all of his movements on the Marauder's Map, something that Hermione tried to discourage.

No, it was easier for her to retreat to the little cave and spend her afternoons reading and even working on a bit of homework with Padfoot. He was an excellent study partner, in that he kept to himself mostly - aside from the occasional shove of his face into her head for scratches behind the ear - and never asked to copy her homework. At times, she would talk aloud to the black dog, and he always stared at her with the most expressive face, as though he really understood all the intricacies of Transfiguration. It was as almost as if he thought he was a little wizard himself. The thought tickled Hermione.

It was a bright Saturday afternoon, perhaps one of the last sunny days before the long winter would creep in, and Hermione was beginning to feel antsy lying around in the cave. Setting aside her Potions essay, she stood, pushing Padfoot's head out of her lap. "What do you say we go stretch our legs a bit, Pads?" she asked, hopefully. "Who knows the next time it will be such a nice day?"

He seemed reluctant, but eventually rose to his massive paws, waiting patiently for her to secure her Gryffindor scarf around her neck to protect her from the breeze. They walked for a while, listening to the birds twittering around, and hanging close to the edge of the forest, just on the inside of the trees. With all the concerns around the Grim that was haunting the grounds, she didn't want to do anything to attract attention to Padfoot. After a while, Hermione stopped to pick up a small branch, before throwing it for the overgrown puppy to go fetch, only to have Padfoot give her an incredulous look as if to say, "You really expect me to chase a branch?"

In an instant, Padfoot went from his usual calm and sedate self, to a growling mess. The hair on his neck seemed to rise and he barred his teeth to some unknown foe. Whipping around, Hermione peered into the grove of trees, and spied a figure standing there. She was hit with a bolt of fear, realizing that anyone else who was in the Forest was there against the rules, and they were not someone to be crossed.

To her dismay, the figure seemed to notice her, and took a step forward. Padfoot countered, stepping in front of her, as if to protect her, growling low enough to echo around the clearing, sending a flock of birds squawking on their way. Her heart was hammering against her chest as the figure came in view, wand raised.

She felt relief wash over her when she realized that it was _just_ Draco Malfoy, his face ashen and his hair disheveled. Before she could begin to ponder what he was doing skulking around in the forest, he sneered at her. "Merlin! Call your dog off, Mudblood!"

His slur did nothing to quiet Padfoot's riled behavior, instead sending him snapping at the blond boy, making him step back in fear. He got a vicious look on his face, and raised his wand, sending a slicing hex towards the dog. Hermione raised her wand, throwing up a _protego_ , shielding herself and her companion, before turning to talk to the dog. "It's alright Padfoot. I'm fine. Go home," she instructed calmly, knowing that Malfoy didn't pose a threat to her while they were at Hogwarts. Padfoot whined in response, but she gave him a look and repeated her command. "Go home."

Sending one last growl Malfoy's way, the dog turned tail and loped off in the direction of the caves. As soon as he was gone, the Slytherin couldn't help but continue to goad Hermione. "I suppose a dog will have to do as your only company, since your friends have moved on to better things," he smirked at her, before closing the gap between them. Standing so close made it easier for him to look down on her. "I'd say I'm sorry that it's a Grim, but I'm not. Knowing that you are marked for death brings me so much joy."

She frowned at her classmate, determined not to let his words get to her. "Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy. He's not a Grim, he's just a dog," she countered, knowing it was a bit silly to try and get into a debate of any kind with him. It wasn't as though he'd _ever_ concede to her.

Malfoy laughed, his cruel voice tempered by the heavy branches. "Oh, believe me Granger. That's a Grim, but of course a Mudblood like you would be too _stupid_ to realize it." He reached up to touch some of her hair, making Hermione jerk back in disgust. "I know _lots_ of my father's friends would _love_ to take their time killing you. I bet you wouldn't be so high and mighty if someone like Fenrir Greyback got his hands on you."

She took a step back, trying to regain control of her wildly beating heart. The wanted posters for the notorious werewolf that had been posted in Diagon Alley had frightened Hermione a lot - he looked incredibly feral, and his penchant for biting children and young adults only made him more sinister. After seeing him in Borgin and Burke's, Hermione's fears had only been heightened. Did Malfoy know this?

Trying to take control of the situation once again, Hermione sneered back at Malfoy, hoping that she came off as brave as she was trying to. "Well, the Grim doesn't seem to want to go after me, Malfoy. He was practically wild for a chance to get at you," she let her voice drop down to a whisper, hoping to get her point across. "I think it's _you_ who's marked for death, not me. Now, leave me alone."

Keeping her wand out, Hermione spun around and stalked off in the direction of the castle.

* * *

Hermione knew that it was insane to continue making the trek across the grounds to visit Padfoot quite so frequently, especially since the Slytherins now had the _delightful_ habit of howling at her in the hallways, but she worried about him with the weather turning colder. She'd brought him some supplies, hoping that he would be able to keep warm. "I won't be able to come by so frequently. Security has been escalating because of the increase in breakouts from Azkaban," she explained late one evening. She no longer felt awkward about having long, one-sided conversations with the dog.

Sirius Black had been the first to escape. Hogwarts had been searched extensively at the time, because Professor Lupin had apparently been a school friend of Black's and had been one of the few people to insist on his innocence, swearing that he would never have killed Harry's parents. They thought he might seek shelter there, but no one had seen hide nor hair of Black since he'd escaped. Most assumed that he was just helping Voldemort. Hermione wasn't sure what to think.

After Black, a steady trickle of Death Eaters had been finding themselves freed of Azkaban's confines. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov. Theo Nott's father had just escaped, along with Evan Rosier and Augustus Rookwood. Lucius Malfoy, fortunately, was still rotting away in his cell, and Hermione wondered if that wasn't why Malfoy was always looking so terrible.

Padfoot whined, pressing his face into her lap, and looking up at her with his big grey eyes. Hermione smirked and gave him an itch behind each of his ears. "Aw, poor baby," she cooed at her lovable companion. "Don't worry, I am sure it will die down soon," Hermione reassured the dog. "Besides, now that Ron has come up for some air and he and Lavender are fighting a bit, he seems to have realized how often I slip away."

Her silent confidante did not seem too amused to hear that either. His eyes were decidedly sad, and Hermione found herself in a rush to cheer him up. "Nothing to lose sleep over, Padfoot. Now that I've thought more about Ron...I've realized that he and I just aren't right for one another. I won't toss you aside for him," she told him with a cheeky grin. Padfoot did not look entirely convinced of her words.

Hermione sat in the cave with Padfoot as long as she dared, seeing as the sun was setting earlier and earlier and she already had a long walk in the dark back up to school. Times like these had her actually contemplating telling Professor McGonagall about him, to see if he could come stay with her as kind of a...second familiar. But she knew the school regulations well enough to know that dogs were not on the approved list of animals you could have at Hogwarts. Plus, she could only imagine the kind of uproar that would sweep through the students if she brought a _Grim_ into the building.

Wishing him a good night and renewing her warming charms one last time, Hermione began her trek back to school, immediately feeling the bite of the cold on the tip of her nose. The leaves that hadn't fallen yet rattled like bones in the nippy breeze, and she found herself picking up her pace to get back in the warmth and _safety_ of the castle sooner or later.

To pass the time, she would start reciting potions instructions ahead of her upcoming exams. Professor Snape might not like her - always looming behind her while she was brewing, hoping and praying to find something wrong to take points away from Gryffindor - but she knew if she continued to do good work, she would continue to get good marks.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the other set of footsteps until she was practically crashing into the fellow walker. "Professor Lupin!" she called out, completely taken off guard to be running into him out here. What on Earth was he doing heading over in this area? "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. What brings you outside on a night like this?"

"I could say the same for you, Hermione," Professor Lupin said, seriously. "I was actually looking for you. I saw you leave earlier, and when you didn't come back, I thought that I should retrieve you."

Hermione immediately bristled at his words. "Were you spying on me?"

Professor Lupin pointed up towards a window in the castle. "I have a great vantage point from up there. I've seen you headed out more than once," he revealed. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave her a weighty look. "Hermione, listen, I know it must have be hard for you right now. Your friendship with Harry and Ron is going through some changes, and I know it is probably painful to see Ron with Miss Brown."

She wanted to stop and interrupt him, annoyed that even her _Professors_ thought that she must be pining after her friend. She wanted to tell him that it didn't affect her much at all. She opened her mouth to speak, but Professor Lupin cut her off with a look.

"I really must implore you to not wander so close to the edge of the school wards, Hermione." Professor Lupin wore a permanent frown, but she could tell that he was just trying to be helpful. "You know it's not safe. You of all people know the dangers of what the Death Eaters can do, especially after what happened to you in the Department of Mysteries."

Hermione swallowed thickly, remembering the terror that she had felt, and the pain of the curse that Dolohov had hit her with...

"I understand, Professor Lupin," she told him with a nod. "I will take better care not to stray too far from the castle."

"Good. I just want to make sure that you are taking care of yourself, and that means keeping yourself safe," he explained, before turning towards the castle. "Well, shall we head back up to school? Dinner is about to start, and I've heard there will be treacle tart for dinner. Always one of my favorites."

She followed along side him, not able to shake the feelings that had sunk like a rock in her stomach. This was the second time in a week that someone had warned her about Death Eaters. And if Professor Lupin of all people was giving her a warning, maybe she should heed it...

Maybe the whole Grim thing wasn't entirely nonsense.

* * *

Sirius's time in the caves was beginning to wear on him. At first, he wondered if he did carry that Black family streak of insanity. After all, he'd come all the way to Scotland, for just a chance to see a glimpse of Harry.

He'd gotten his glimpse, but he'd gotten more than that too. Hermione had swept into his life, breaking up the exceedingly boring hours that he spent wholed up in hiding. She was the only reason that he'd stayed put.

She took incredibly good care of him, and in return he listened to all of her problems, from school to boys. He often found himself wishing that he could transform, to tell her she was wrong about this transfiguration theory, to tell her she was beautiful and that the boys at Hogwarts must be blind if they didn't agree, to wrap her in his arms and hold her tight.

But, at the same time, he knew that there was no way he could ever reveal the truth to her. On the one hand, she occasionally let slip that the Ministry was on the lookout for Death Eaters - Sirius Black included. There was no indication that anyone thought he was falsely imprisoned, but then again, why would she think that? The Ministry had certainly done a good job smearing him in the press. Additionally, he knew that it was wrong to let her continue to reveal all these secrets to him, thinking that he was _just_ a dog, one who could never respond or talk to anyone else about them. He knew she would be horrified if she knew he was an animagus.

More than that, he didn't want her to stop coming. There was no guarantee that she would ever want to see him again if he did reveal the truth. She was the only bright spot in his sad, lonely existence, and he didn't know if he could let her go, now that he'd basked in her light.

So, when a week had passed and she hadn't come to visit her, Sirius found himself on edge. Sure, she said she wouldn't be able to visit as much any more, but surely that didn't mean she would _stop_ visiting?

The day that he _finally_ heard her familiar gait walking towards the cave, he was so elated that he nearly forgot to transform back into his tail-wagging form. It had been ten days since he'd last seen her, since he'd last smelled her scent and heard her laugh. Eagerly, he ran to the mouth of the cave, waiting for her.

When she finally appeared, he was horrified by what he saw. The hint of a yellow bruise was still visible on her cheek, and he could smell lots of bruise paste. He ran over to her, pressing his nose into her hand, and whining, trying to let her know how worried he was. Hermione gave him a small half smile, and ushered him inside. He noticed she walked gingerly, cautiously, and favoring her right side.

"I promise it's not as bad as it looks," she told him, once she had started the fire in the middle of the room. He hadn't left her side since he first saw her. "I don't know what happened, but I was pushed down the stairs. When I looked..." she trailed off, her eyes going a bit distant, as if she were reliving the memory. "When I looked back, no one was there, but I _know_ I felt someone's hands on my back."

Sirius could feel his blood boiling. He couldn't believe that Hermione had been hurt, purposefully attacked, and that she'd been injured. What he wouldn't give to have been there...to have been able to protect her...

"Anyway, I took quite a tumble, and well, Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let me out of her sight while I healed," she scratched him behind the ears, calming him a bit. "I needed skele-gro to heal a broken collarbone, and my hip is still a bit sore, but it was mostly just bruises. Fred and George sent me some bruise paste, but it only just arrived today."

She nibbled her lower lip, and he could tell that Hermione had a lot on her mind, more than usual. This was more serious than relationship issues with Ron Weasley. "I was thinking...you know, maybe this whole Grim thing isn't that crazy. Maybe I am marked for death."

Sirius growled at hearing her hopeless tone, seeing her shoulders droop. He'd always enjoyed his form, enjoying the fact that he could scare the pants off of some wizards, and knowing that it would allow him to keep up with Moony while he was transformed. But this was the first time that he'd cursed his animagus form, for making Hermione worry for her life. He wished he could do something, anything, to take that away from her.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so enjoying writing this story, so it means a lot that you are also liking it! Now, many of you know I usually respond to reviews, but I am getting married on Saturday! Ahh! I am going to try to respond to as many as I can, but no promises, since I will be busy with preparation, wedding, and honeymoon! Don't worry, I will definitely still be posting the final installment of this on Halloween! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions.

Huge thank you to Heeley and Calebski for beta reading this monster! They are so wonderful and helpful - just supportive angels - and they have helped me refine the writing in this SO MUCH. So thank you!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter four, and be on the lookout for chapter five on Halloween!

* * *

After her run in with Professor Lupin, Hermione sensed that the man was keeping a closer eye on her. She suspected that he'd also talked to Harry and Ron because they both suddenly seemed to have a real desire to study, taking away from the time that Hermione would normally go down to the cave at the edge of the wards.

Her annoyance was two-fold. For one, she didn't get as much time with her new friend, who she was genuinely beginning to miss. But, additionally, their skills as study partners had not transformed in the interim. When they weren't asking her to help with introductions, conclusions, and finding supporting evidence on essays, they were distracting her with inane chatter. Ron seemed to have no concept of what was too much information to share with his friend, who was a girl, about his girlfriend and the things that they did together in empty broom closets. Harry, was more convinced than ever that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, and even told her about how he'd caught him crying in Myrtle's bathroom.

Hermione could agree that it did seem a little bit odd for him to do that. It especially didn't gel with the persona that Malfoy had projected when he caught her in the forest. At the same time, she could imagine that having your father _still_ stuck in Azkaban while more and more Death Eaters were being freed could weigh heavily on him. She just wished that her friend could find a little empathy for the ferret, even if he didn't deserve it.

It was a rainy Thursday night when Harry was rehashing the same old argument about Malfoy being a Death Eater. "Just think about it. Malfoy was obsessed with beating me at Quidditch, and then he just quits? It doesn't make any sense!" He ran his fingers through his messy, black hair.

Hermione couldn't stop her snort of derision. "Or, maybe he was only playing Quidditch because his father was making him?" she questioned critically. "Maybe he never really liked Quidditch, and now with his father in prison he doesn't have to carry on the charade?"

Ron gave her that little look like he thought she was an imbecile. "No offense, Mione, but you just wouldn't get it," he said, thinking he was the most knowledgeable person to ever speak on the subject. "Quidditch is something that practically _every_ wizard loves. There is no way that Malfoy doesn't enjoy it."

"Yeah, I mean, when you're out there on the pitch, anything goes," Harry added. "The Professors can't hear a lick of what's said up there in the air. Believe me, Malfoy was always really quick to dish out some trash talk. He was super competitive."

Hermione sighed, remembering the times that Malfoy had jostled Harry for the snitch. She supposed that he could be pretty competitive, but she didn't think that that was proof enough to show that he loved Quidditch so much that the only reason he would quit was because he was a Death Eater. Knowing that this was an argument that she wasn't going to win, she quickly conceded. "Whatever. I guess you guys are right. I obviously don't know _anything_ about Quidditch," she retorted, hating the sarcastic tone of her voice, wondering when her friendship with the boys had made her so passive aggressive.

It didn't matter that much, because Ron was just too thrilled to realize that she wasn't sincere. "I knew you'd see it our way, Mione."

"Anyways, speaking about Quidditch, Ron, you and I need to get out to the pitch for practice," Harry said, using his wand to pack up his bag. A loud clap of thunder shook the whole library, the huge panes of glass rattling in their frames ominously. With a sheepish grin, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Even this weather won't get the team out of conditioning." He was taking his role as captain very seriously, knowing that they needed to be able to play in all sorts of weather.

Recognizing this as a chance to be free of her two shadows for a short while, Hermione brightened up. "I'll walk with you down to the pitch. I could do with a bit of a stroll before I tackle this History of Magic essay."

The boys weren't nearly sneaky enough for her to miss the pointed look that they shared. Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Really, Mione? It's a bloody thunderstorm out there. That's not the kind of walk that you should be going on alone."

Hermione bristled at his suggestion that she was too fragile to go outside. "It's not too stormy out there for the whole Gryffindor Quidditch squad," she argued, annoyed that she was having to justify her movements. "Besides, I am the best in our year at charms - I think I can keep myself safe from a little rain and wind."

Ron sputtered, his face going a bit mottled and red. "But Hermione! It's not really safe for you out there, what with that Grim we saw earlier this term."

She got the idea that he was trying really any excuse that he could to keep her from being unattended, which only irked her more. "Ronald, no one had _seen_ the Grim in weeks," she hissed. "And in any case, it isn't the Grim that kills you - it's just a harbinger of death. So, I hardly see it as being a problem."

Not to be deterred, Hermione led the boys out of the castle, dropping them off at the locker rooms where they could change, ignoring their pleas for her to just turn around. Once they were safely out of sight, she turned and stalked off in the direction of the caves, her anger waning with each step.

Now that she was out in it, she could admit that the weather was a bit dicier than she had anticipated. Walking in double time, her path illuminated by random flashes of lightening, she hurried off in the direction of the cave, eager to get out of the wet. It _was_ a bit eerie to be all the way out here, so far away from any other students, by herself.

Sighing, she saw the entrance to the cave and entered, seeing Padfoot lift his head abruptly. A wave of her wand had her completely dry and a fire crackling in the pit. "Did I sneak up on you, Pads?" she questioned with a laugh. Perhaps with the storm outside raging, his sensitive hearing hadn't been able to pick up on her footsteps, like he normally did.

Kneeling down next to the dog, she encouraged him to roll onto his back, so that she could give him a good belly rub. To her dismay, he seemed a bit...sad. Depressed even. Frowning, Hermione looked him over. "It must get pretty sad, being cooped up in here all this time," she murmured, seeing Padfoot's ears perk up at her statement. Her heart clenched, wondering if she was the only reason that he was sticking around the cave. Perhaps he would have moved on weeks ago if she hadn't been bringing him food. The thought had tears springing in her eyes.

"You know, Pads...if you wanted to...go somewhere else, you don't have to stay here just for me. I would understand." She swallowed thickly, trying to keep ahold of her emotions. Hermione didn't _want_ him to leave, but she also didn't want to hold him back.

Perhaps sensing her emotion, Padfoot whined, pressing his wet nose against her cold hand. Hermione smiled, wondering if he felt the same way. Then, she just felt a bit silly...dogs didn't have human emotions, and it was wrong of her to try and attribute them to him. He could probably just sense that she was upset.

Before she could assess exactly what she was feeling, a voice called out from the mouth of the cave. "Hermione! Get back!"

She turned her head, just in time to see Professor Lupin send a stunner in the general direction of Padfoot. She pushed the dog away from her, springing back at the same time, and watched in relief as the spell ricocheted and missed both of them. "Run, Padfoot!" she screamed at her friend, not wanting Professor Lupin to hurt him. Hermione watched in relief when he darted past the other man, unharmed.

Turning back to face her teacher, Hermione was surprised to see him staring at her with some emotion halfway between rage and concern. He was stalking towards her, pressing his hands on her shoulders once he got close enough. "What did you call the Grim?" he questioned, catching her completely off guard. Shaking her a bit when she didn't answer immediately, he asked her again, "Hermione! What did you call him?"

Completely confused by his behavior, Hermione gaped at him for a moment before answering. "Padfoot, sir."

Hermione watched as Professor Lupin seemed to crumple, his adrenaline leaving him, and his normal, calm demeanor returning to him slowly. "I _told_ you not to walk so close to the school wards, Hermione," he said, disappointment clear in his voice. "Detention, with me, for the next week."

She tried not to bristle at having received so much detention, mostly just glad that he didn't take any house points away that she would have to explain to Harry and Ron. Her Defense Professor insisted on walking her back to the castle, and Hermione spent the long walk in silence, fuming. She wondered how he found her, until he saw the Marauder's map hanging out of his back pocket.

* * *

Hermione spent her detentions with Professor Lupin writing lines. She was a bit distressed to learn that that was the most creative punishment that he could come up with. He did have a long talk with her about associating with unusual or unknown creatures, but she didn't think that it was very applicable. Padfoot wasn't unknown _or_ unusual. He was just a dog.

He had obviously talked with Harry and Ron, because they pressed her for information on why she would have headed to the edge of the school wards. Harry was convinced that Malfoy must have bewitched her, trying to get her off of school grounds so that some Death Eater could kidnap her.

"For the last time, I wasn't bewitched. I just wasn't paying attention to where I was going!" she finally snapped at the pair. Interestingly, Professor Lupin hadn't said anything to the boys about the Grim he'd seen her with.

The first free day that she had, Hermione was determined to get back to the cave to see Padfoot. She hated the way they had had to separate the last time, and she wanted to make sure that he was okay. After she woke up, she asked Lavender to tell Harry and Ron that she wasn't feeling well and was going to try and get a bit more sleep and was skipping breakfast. The bubbly blonde was only too happy to know that she was going to get some alone time with her _Won-Won_ and flounced down the stairs.

Once she was certain that her friends would have gone to breakfast, Hermione charmed her bed curtains shut, and hurried down the stairs to the Common Room, before heading down the stairs and out the front door. A morning frost had settled over the grass, making a crunching sound with each hurried footstep, the grounds shining like diamonds.

She was sure that she made it to the cave in record time, practically shouting when she walked through the mouth. "Padfoot-" she called out, only to realize very rapidly that the cave was empty. Shuffling over to the fire pit, she fell to her knees, surprised by how hollow she felt right now.

Why had her faithful companion left? Had Professor Lupin scared him off once and for all? Or had it been her insistence that he didn't have to stay if he didn't want to? Had she scared him off? They never got to finish having that conversation. Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes when she realized just how silly that sounded. She and Padfoot were never having a _conversation_. She was talking, and he listened, but he never spoke back. He was, after all, just a dog, as she kept insisting.

Still, it didn't change just how awful, terrible, it felt to realize that he was gone.

Wiping away the tears that fell on her cheeks, she stood, knowing that there was no point in hanging around here any longer. She pulled out her wand to apply a warming charm to her body; she'd been too busy, too eager to stop for one earlier when she left the dorms.

Turning to leave, Hermione stopped in her tracks to see a grinning man waiting for her in the mouth of the cave. "Well, well, well, if it isn't little Hermione Granger," he said, an evil grin on his cruel face.

Her heart stopped. There was no way that she would ever forget the face of Antonin Dolohov. He'd haunted her dreams all summer, the crazed look on his face while he'd cursed her in the Department of Mysteries all too vivid. While she had recovered from his curse, the scar that he'd left still twinged now and again, reminding her of the excruciating pain that she'd been in.

Suddenly, all of the warnings that she'd received this year came crashing back down on top of her. Professor Lupin's insistence that she not wander too close to the wards - clearly Dolohov was able to cross over her, giving him access to her. Malfoy's promise that his father's friends would be too happy to kill her - she had no doubt in her mind that Dolohov would relish killing her slowly. Even Ron's words of warning about them seeing the Grim. Had she actually been marked for death?

Suddenly, Padfoot's absence seemed a bit more ominous. Was he really a Grim after all? Had he just been there to mark her for death, only to leave once it was nearly assured?

It didn't matter, Hermione thought, shaking her head, and holding on to her wand tightly. Sure, she might be in a precarious position with Dolohov, but that didn't mean that she was going down without a fight. Taking a calming breath, Hermione sent a stunner his way. " _Petrificus totalus!_ "

Dolohov easily sidestepped it, his grin transforming into a pleased smirk. Clearly, he would enjoy the fight, relish inflicting as much pain on her as possible. He sent a hex back in her direction, which Hermione had to lunge to avoid, not even having the time to send up a shield spell. Before she had time to recover, he sent a jelly legs jinx her way, making her fall to the ground, laughing while he did it.

Hermione rankled at him using such a childish spell to catch her off-guard, knowing that he was toying with her. " _Finite!_ " she cried, before hopping back up to her feet.

They traded spells back and forth, with just a few of his jinxes hitting her, and only one of her's hitting him. Finally, though, it seemed as if Dolohov had grown tired of their duel. His arm moved in a wide, nearly theatrical way, as he called out the one spell that she never expected him to use. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Hermione watched in horror as her wand flew out of her hand and into Dolohov's. She was well and truly fucked. No one knew where she was - everyone thinking that she was having a bit of a lie-in since she wasn't feeling well. How long would it take before anyone realized that something was wrong? What would Dolohov do with her dead body after he'd killed her? Probably just leave her there…

"Now to have a little fun with you, Mudblood," he hissed with a smile. His immense joy at being able to hurt her was completely at odds with the act he was about to commit, making him seem more ghoulish than before. " _Crucio!"_

She threw her arms up in a futile attempt to protect herself, waiting with eyes clenched tight for the red spell to come flying through the air and hit her. She still remembered the lessons from fourth year, and she realized she was going to know exactly how that helpless little spider felt under the weight of the curse.

Only, the pain never came.

Cautiously opening her eyes, Hermione looked to see that Padfoot had jumped at Dolohov, his large jaws circling the Death Eater's arm and sending the spell off-course. He had latched on rather hard, and Dolohov was struggling, shaking his arm, trying to get the giant dog off of him. Her heart swelled, realizing that Padfoot hadn't actually abandoned her, or if he had, he'd come back! And he was protecting her, not marking her for death.

Perhaps remembering that he had a wand in his hand, Dolohov leveled it at Padfoot, shooting off some unknown spell that had her companion flying off, through the air, before hitting the wall of the cave with a muted thump. She made a noise of concern, seeing him remain crumpled in pain on the floor, a little whimper an indication of how much pain he was in.

She wanted to help him, but unfortunately, she would have to get through Dolohov first. He was advancing on her slowly, wand raised. "Now, where were we?" he asked, mockingly.

For a moment, he was the sole source of her attention, until she saw some movement from where Padfoot at fallen. She watched in muted horror as the dog began to shift and elongate, changing, transforming, until he was standing upright and…

She screamed at the top of her lungs, seeing that the lovable animal she had been spending so much time with was actually a human. Dolohov seemed too shocked to react, and was unable to block the Unforgivable curse that the other man uttered. " _Avada Kedavra!_ " A green jet of light hit the Death Eater square in the chest, making him fall in a heap to the ground, his mouth and eyes wide with surprise.

The man - _Padfoot_ \- turned to face her with a relieved look on his face. "Hermione," he called out to her softly, looking at her as if she were the most precious person in the world.

But Hermione didn't feel very relieved at all, and pushed herself backwards when he took a tentative step in her direction. She recognized the man as a notorious murderer, escapee of Azkaban.

Sirius Black.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Reminder that I might not have been able to get to the review responses for last weeks since I got married last Saturday. Still, I hope that you like what I've got in store for you, to wrap the rest of this story up! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Huge thank you to Heeley and Calebski for beta reading this story! Without them, I have no idea if I would have even finished this story this year, and they honestly helped elevate my writing so much! I am eternally grateful to both of them!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter five, and Happy Halloween!

* * *

Scrambling to her feet, Hermione wished that she'd even been able to manage wandless magic, wanting nothing more than to have her wand back safely in her hand. She stared at it, from where it had rolled out of the hand of the now dead body of Antonin Dolohov, on the other side of Sirius Black.

Sirius Black, who she'd been spending hours, days, weeks, _months,_ with, thinking that he was nothing more than a sad dog who didn't have anyone to look after him. When she thought about some of the things, some of the secrets she'd revealed to him, she could feel her face heat up in embarrassment, and her throat choke up with tears. All the things she'd told him about Ron and Lavender...

But, she had more important issues to deal with than just being mortified. Sirius Black was wanted for murder, having escaped from Azkaban, and now that she'd seen the ease with which he'd killed Dolohov, she had no reason to believe that he wouldn't do the same to her.

Taking a cautious step towards the edge of the cave, Hermione tried to gauge if she would be able to lunge and reach her wand safely, before Black would have a chance to react.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him make a move towards her, her name on his lips again, sounding hollow and broken. "Hermione, please," his voice was gravely from years of misuse, and Hermione wondered just how long he'd been in his animagus form. He had been missing for three years. Further, she wondered just what a prolonged animagus transformation could do to your psyche. How much of the man was actually left in him?

Hermione was shaking from fear and adrenaline, knowing she wasn't out of the woods yet. She wasn't safe yet. There was no promise that Black wouldn't hurt her just like Dolohov had tried to. "Just, _please_ , let me pass. I won't tell anyone you are here," she pleaded.

Not heeding her request, or perhaps being too far gone to do so, he instead closed the distance between them, pressing his hands onto her shoulders. "Hermione, please, let's just talk about this," he begged, surprising Hermione with his tone. He almost seemed as if he was scared of...losing her.

Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she allowed herself to look the man over properly for the first time. He had a threadbare robe covering his naked form, his chest revealed by the parted fabric. He was thin, much too thin for a man of his height, and she could see the ridges of each of his ribs, hidden only by the dark ink of some tattoos. In another time, she might have wanted to explore those markings, but she was on edge, caged in by a man she didn't really know.

Her eyes trailed up to his face. He looked gaunt, cheekbones sharp and cutting, his skin stretched tight over bone. She felt a surge of disappointment when she thought of how little food she'd actually brought...Padfoot...thinking that he would be able to fend for himself as a _dog_. Clearly, it hadn't been enough. His hair, which she was sure was normally a deep, healthy black, looked ratty and rumpled. But the thing that stopped her in her tracks were his eyes. Deep, silver pools that held so much emotion - unwilling or unable to leave what he was feeling off of his face.

They were Padfoot's eyes. She remembered all of the times that she had stared into those eyes, thinking of how expressive and human-like they were. A bitter laugh escaped her throat, when she thought of how silly that seemed now.

"It's okay," he whispered a promise, but it did little to ease her panic. If anything, it just made Hermione feel more awful about the situation she'd gotten herself into. What if he never let her leave, thinking that she might turn him in? "You know me, Hermione. I'm Padfoot. You can trust me, just like you did before."

 _That_ certainly got her attention, making her push back, wiggling out of his embrace. "You are _not_ Padfoot," she said, bossily, annoyed that he didn't seem to see anything wrong with what he'd put her through. "You could have...left after the first time Crookshanks brought me here. Or, transformed right then and there and told me the truth."

He stepped closer to her again. "Couldn't transform from the pain the first time. Don't you think I would have just healed myself?" he questioned, with one raised eyebrow. It didn't take long for him to step towards her again, as if he were compelled to move by some magnetic force only he felt. This time, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his bare chest. "Then, once I saw you, I knew I couldn't leave. I've been alone for so long."

Hermione was uncomfortable, wrapped in his embrace, but she soon could feel the odd little movements of his chest, and realized he was crying. Listening to the steady thump of his heart beat beneath skin, muscle, and bone, Hermione forced herself to calm down. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him to be alone for so long. After all, no one had seen Sirius Black since her third year. How had he not gone mad, not having any human contact in so long.

Tentatively, and privately wondering if she was making a terrible, horrible mistake, she wrapped her own arms around his waist, returning his hug. She could feel all of his tension seem to bleed away from her one simple ask. His tears seemed to slow the longer that she held him, and she could feel herself relax as well.

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione, I've longed to hold you this way since you first came in here," he whispered into the crown of her head, making her stiffen once again. Her mind was still reeling from the revelation that Padfoot had not been just a dog this whole while, and she felt uncomfortable to learn that Sirius knew quite so much about her. She'd opened up to him in ways that she never would have if she'd known the truth. "I just wanted to keep you safe."

She hummed, supposing that he had kept her safe. He'd _killed_ Dolohov for her and if he hadn't, she was positive that she wouldn't have lived much longer. Pulling away from his hug so that she could look over his face, she was shocked by the _heat_ in his eyes, reflecting some kind of emotion that was unknown to her. "So you aren't going to kill me?"

"No!" he said fiercely, disgusted at the suggestion. "I promise that I would never do anything to hurt you."

"But you've lied to me, for all this time," Hermione insisted, her voice catching on the lump in her throat. "You pretended to be a dog to gain my trust. Now, I don't even know you…"

"You do know me, Hermione," Sirius argued, reaching out to entwine his hand in hers, as though he ached without the physical contact, reminding her of the way Padfoot would always shove his face into her hand. "Padfoot and I are one in the same, and I promise that I will keep your secrets, if you just keep mine."

She knew that he meant his presence on the Hogwarts grounds. Biting her lower lip, she stopped when she noticed the fond smile he gave her at the involuntary habit. Narrowing her eyes at him, she needed more information before she could give him an assurance either way. "What are you doing here anyway? Have you been at Hogwarts this whole time?"

"No, I only just came here," Sirius explained, looking down at the ground. "I'd hoped that enough time had passed, and perhaps everyone would stop searching for me...and I had to see Harry, just to make sure he was alright." His face lit up as if he'd only just remembered something. Surging forward, he cupped her face in his hands, tilting her up to look into his eyes. "And that was when I saw you. You wonderful witch. You helped me when no one else…"

He trailed off, his eyes darting down to her lips once again, and before she was able to stop it, he was kissing her, almost chastely. Hermione knew that she should pull away, but there was something holding her to the spot, and when his tongue brushed her lower lip to take the kiss deeper, she let him. It was easy, so easy for her to get swept into the moment...

Until she remembered that he had still lied to her, that he was still a wanted man...

Pulling away, she blushed a bright shade of pink, before looking down at the ground. "We can't - I... I don't know you, Sirius," she insisted. Yes, she was comfortable around Padfoot, but this was unknown territory. Her eyes traveled over to the dead body that was splayed out on the ground, remembering that she had a life outside of this tiny cave. "You can't stay here, and we have to take care of Dolohov."

He seemed disappointed at first, but eventually nodded, his own eyes staring at the man he'd killed. "I can take care of Dolohov."

Hermione didn't want to know what he was planning, but she was grateful to not have to think about that. "I think I have someone that can help you out of here, but...it could take some time. You should stay here, but it would be wise to stay as Padfoot as much as possible. Even though I know who you are, it doesn't mean that it would be wise to get too comfortable."

Sirius nodded, looking solemn, before a small smile formed on his face. "You know, my friends at Hogwarts used to call me Padfoot as well."

She shook her head. She hadn't known that, but it only made her feel more confident that Professor Lupin would be ready to help. Feeling a bit odd just leaving the cave this time, she gave Sirius a little wave goodbye; internally, she was glad to put some space between her and the other man. He was confusing all of her thoughts and feelings, not sure if she should feel sorry for him or still be mad at him for lying to her.

Some distance between them would be good.

* * *

Hermione couldn't just jump into telling Professor Lupin about Sirius being in the cave. First, she had needed to suss out exactly what he thought of his old friend. Sure, immediately after the Potters had died, Professor Lupin had been vocal that Sirius couldn't possibly have done it, but many things had changed. There were rumors that Peter Pettigrew had been seen again, assisting Voldemort himself, and if one of his best friends could flip to being a Death Eater, why couldn't two?

She danced around the topic at first, not sure how to broach the subject exactly. At first, she had come to him with her worries about Harry's obsessiveness over Malfoy, and told him she thought that learning more about his parents and his parents friends would give him something healthier to focus on. That hadn't worked, as her Professor preferred to speak to Harry directly.

Then, she tried to talk to him about the Grim that he had seen her with, tried to suss out if he'd recognized the animagus as his old best friend. That had put him in a very bad mood, his body going tense immediately. He had clammed up, and had instructed her to speak with Firenze if she had questions about omens.

In the meantime, she continued to visit Sirius as often as she could. It was different, but the same. He would always transform back out of his animagus form, as soon as she showed up. He had many of the same mannerisms as Padfoot, so there were some part of their interactions that were similar. However, seeing as he could actually talk back, their relationship began to change and morph.

It was easy to talk to him. She found that opening up to him was as easy as opening up to Padfoot, and before long, she was sharing her dreams, her fears, what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, how she really felt being called Mudblood, as if nothing had ever changed. He listened to everything she had to say, telling her about his own past and experiences. She found herself laughing with him more often than not, and before long, she was beginning to quite like him, despite the way that their relationship had begun.

She shared many details and memories of her friendship with Harry, the whole time wondering if she was making the right decision. There was always the chance that Sirius was just playing her, that he'd really done all those awful things he was accused of, and that he would be using her intelligence to get to and hurt Harry. Based on the genuine and melancholy way that he responded, though, she was willing to take the chance.

It was clear that he was still starved for human affection. Many times while they would sit next to each other, she would find him leaning towards her, or find his hand reaching for hers. She could never shake the feeling of his kiss, and she found herself imagining what it would be like to do that again. Eventually, the curiosity would pass, and she would scold herself for wanting _so much_ from someone she barely knew.

Hermione thought that Sirius might have been willing to continue the way that they were, but she knew that he couldn't remain on Hogwarts grounds forever, and thus, continued to press Professor Lupin. They had already tempted fate for long.

In the end, her hand was tipped for her. Headmaster Dumbledore's death had come as a shock to the school. He'd drunk poisoned mead given to him by Professor Slughorn. Draco Malfoy's involvement shocked everyone _except_ for Harry. He had no time to be smug about it, though, seeing as Malfoy had let Death Eaters into the school. The Order had been called, and Dumbledore's Army had fought alongside of them, chasing Voldemort's minions off of school grounds, Malfoy protected in the swoop of Professor Snape's cape.

She knew then that she had to come clean to Professor Lupin about what she'd been doing. Tearfully telling him that she needed to show him something, there was nothing that could be done to dissuade Harry and Ron from tagging along.

Sirius was glad to see Hermione, not having been blind to the fact that some kind of altercation was going on at the school. He'd longed to run into the fray, but he knew that his presence was more likely to cause harm than good. He hadn't been able to contain a whoop of joy when he saw Hermione, bookended by Remus and Harry, who looked _exactly_ like a young James.

He watched as Remus instructed Harry, Hermione and the Weasley boy Hermione had cried over to stay back for a while. It was odd - before, he would have been at his wits end to speak with Harry, but now, his eyes lingered longest on Hermione's. Once the haggard werewolf had come within an arm's distance away, Sirius wrapped him in a bone-breaking hug. Tears came to both of their eyes.

"I always knew it wasn't you," Remus swore up and down. "If I hadn't found Peter a few years ago, though, I doubt anyone else in the Order would have believed me."

It was nice to know that his friend had been his friend through and through, but it didn't do much to erase the pain of being in Azkaban for many years, tormented by every negative memory that the dementors could pull out of him. Sirius listened patiently while Remus explained that Dumbledore was dead. The Order was convening at a safe house, and that Remus would take him there.

A hand squeezed around his heart when he thought about leaving Hermione behind. He glanced over his friend's shoulder, seeing her curly hair and tear stained face, and he thought of all the things he hadn't told her yet. She'd made him feel _human_ again. Would he see her after this day or would fate keep them apart?

Too perceptive for his liking, Remus hissed when he realized that his attention was elsewhere. "Not a good idea, Padfoot. Don't think I haven't picked up on your feelings for Hermione," he scolded. "She's just a girl...barely seventeen. Let her be a teenager, before the war takes that from her too."

Sirius thought about all the things that she had told him about her life, and wondered if it hadn't been taken already. He couldn't help the intense way he felt about her, but he also knew there was no use in arguing about it with Remus _now_. "Just let me say goodbye to her."

Remus walked back towards the trio, whispering to them, before Hermione crossed the room to stand in front of him. Sirius swept her up into his arms, wanting to take her away from this, from all the hurt and pain. But he knew that they were both Gryffindors, and neither of them would feel content sitting idly by while the rest of the Wizarding World was in turmoil.

"We are leaving tonight," Hermione told him. "Voldemort...well, Professor Dumbledore gave Harry a mission, and we are going to go complete it."

It piqued his interest, but he knew that he wouldn't get more details out of her. "Let me come with you. I can keep you safe," he whispered, his thumb reaching up to trace her bottom lip. "I've been all over the country, and I am sure I can help."

She bit her lower lip, turning her head away from him. This hurt her too. "I _don't_ want to leave you," she admitted, eventually making eye contact. "But it's not safe for you at the moment. Professor Lupin said he was taking you to a safe house. I think that's the best option for us right now."

Hearing her insistence that she wanted to stay with him had his heart soaring. Not caring about their increasingly annoyed audience, Sirius slanted his mouth along hers, wasting no time deepening the kiss, letting his tongue slip against hers greedily. His hand dove into her hair, holding her against his body, relishing the way that they fit together perfectly. Breaking the kiss, he felt pride at seeing her dazed expression; even after all these years without human touch, he could still make a witch see stars. "I love you," he told her simply, his eyes intense, catching her off guard.

Her eyes widening in surprise, she did not immediately return the sentiment. Instead, she seemed troubled by his assertion. "Love? Sirius, we've only known each other for a few days," she argued, taking a minute step backwards, needing the space between them.

"I've known you for weeks now, Hermione," he explained. "I told you before - you know me. Padfoot and I are one in the same."

She didn't seem very convinced, but still, he pressed on. "As soon as the war is over, I _will_ find you, and then we will _never_ have to part again. I love you, Hermione, and when it's done, _nothing_ will keep me away from you," he promised, knowing that it was true. He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her lips, before he pulled away.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath, before nodding. "As soon as the war is over," she agreed, before leading him towards her friends. With them all together, he could clearly see that the Weasley boy's face had turned an alarming shade of red, and he looked as though he were trying to hold his tongue. Giving the younger man a smirk, he wished the trio good luck on their mission, before transforming into Padfoot once again, so that he could follow Remus to the safe house.

Walking away from Hermione, leaving her in their cave, was so painful, but he was bolstered by their shared promise. In the light of the moon, he raised his head, before howling out his angst, a haunting sound echoed and rolled over the grounds, ringing long after they were gone.


End file.
